


Caught In The Afterglow

by FHC_Lynn



Series: Gravity [5]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Continuity What Continuity, Loss of Control, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 19:35:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3621729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FHC_Lynn/pseuds/FHC_Lynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sunstreaker never thought it would happen again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caught In The Afterglow

**Author's Note:**

> Kink meme fill. Again, yeah. Prompt here: http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/13205.html?thread=14571157#t14571157
> 
> Okay. I dithered on posting this here. There is...much more to the story, but it'll be a while before it's done. So I'm putting this up until I get the whole done.

"What is this about? You've left him alive."

Moaning, Sunstreaker twisted away from the two mechs that had found him. He hadn't fled far enough from the Ark, apparently, when the horror of what was happening had dawned on him. When his senses had begun to go offline one by one, Sunstreaker had thrown himself into the thickest woods he could make out before his failing optics had cut off entirely.

He could only hear and feel now.

The first mech to approach had stayed his distance. The prayer that it was Sideswipe died as the second footsteps approached. His rapidly deteriorating mental falculties couldn't tell him who the mechs were, but neither could be his twin.

"Look," a second, oddly cadenced, voice pleaded.

He knew what the mechs looking at him saw.

Another moan racked his body. Fury built in that tiny part of his processor still functioning correctly. Sunstreaker's own fingers stuffed into his exposed valve, wet with his own lubricant. Sunstreaker knew overload would burn this particular demon out of his system. Once upon a time, other gladiators had helped him burn the last of the virus out when the nobles had finished with him. It wasn't working _now_ , and he knew the pair looking down at him saw a _toy_ in the shell of a warrior.

The Autobots' cold killer writhing in the dirt, unable to excise a microscopic demon.

"What--?"

"Poison. Afterglow," the second voice hissed.

"All those nobles are _dead_ ," the first voice snarled, cold and dark, with a pale shadow of Sunstreaker's own rage. That tiny part of his processor that could still think hoped, at least, for mercy. A large hand grasped Sunstreaker's arm, tugging his fingers from their fruitless task. The touch and loss jerked a cry from his vocalizer, and the nanovirus eating his mind twisted him around. His body threw itself against the large, cool frame attached to that hand, clumsy as he had never been.

The large mech bullrushed him back to the ground. Sunstreaker jerked up against the body over his. His fury demanded to crush the life out of the mech touching him. Instead, Sunstreaker's body obeyed the nanovirus's commads. He rubbed his naked valve on the thighs now parting his, smearing the thick, rich smelling lubricant across chilly plating. A huge hand caught around his wrists when he tried to touch the mech's cool plating. His hands were pinned in the dirt above his head.

"Shh, shh. It will be all right, little one," the dark voice said softly. Fingers stroked the side of his burning face. The jagged ice feel of it shot straight through his body to his valve, and never mind what that dark voice did to his equipment. Sunstreaker groaned. Desperation drove him to arch up higher, to rub himself against the join of thigh and pelvis. Sunstreaker whined, swollen valve clenching. With the internal pockets flushed with hot energon beneath the finely woven, sensor rich copper mesh skin, he still could not quite reach the overload just beyond his reach.

"Why hasn't he overloaded himself?" Dark asked.

"Nanovirus not behaving as it had," Odd answered. "Most processor functions offline. Attempts to overload himself have failed."

"Processor...? What do you mean failed?"

"Registers several _attempts_ ," Odd's flat voice still managed to sound unhappy.

"You can read him--someone _is_ home, then? Surely his spike...?" A hand covered his spike housing, dragging another whine from him. The hands petting garnered no more reaction from Sunstreaker's equipment than Sunstreaker's own hands had earlier. That tiny, still rational part of his processor exploded in fresh fury.

"Angry," Odd said. "Not helpful."

"Can he hear me at all?" Dark asked.

Sunstreaker could hear. He even knew exactly _what_ was happening if not where he was or to whom the voices belonged. Most of his memory cortex remained beyond his virus-addled processor, but this feeling he _knew_. He knew what was happening to him. The rolling fire of overload burned the nanovirus, leaving it inert. If that happened fast enough, permanent processor and cortex damage would be avoided. And this time, this time something, beyond it happening at _all_ , was _wrong_.

"Yes," Odd drew the word out slowly. "Understands. Knows what happens."

"Unicron's tailpipe! I'm trying to help you, little one." A cool hand whispered over his plating, low on his torso. It shoved his hips to the ground, hard. The motion drew his wet equipment along that thigh, firing the external sensors, still with no relief. Sunstreaker's own broken cry spurred his impotent fury higher. "If you want... If you want another kind of mercy, I can end this by deactivating you."

Sunstreaker wanted this to end. He wanted to kill both mechs. He wanted to die. But most of all, he wanted to see tomorrow. He _would_ find out who did this to him, and he would cut them apart, one micrometer at a time. For that purpose, Sunstreaker would ride Unicron's spike if he had to, but he would kill the mech who had done this to him.

"He wants revenge," Odd said.

The hand on his spike housing slid down to the scalding wetness of his valve. Sunstreaker shouted, pedes sliding against the earth beneath him for purchase. He arched his hips into that hand. A thick finger slipped inside of him, pressing all over the heated mesh skin. The pressure had Sunstreaker keening. He rocked on it with desperation piling across his limited conscious thoughts. Exasperation and frustration filled in the rest. Sunstreaker had been riding his own fingers when these jokers _found_ him.

"Hands are insufficient. He tried," Odd said. "He has been here nearly too long. Magnetic trigger?"

"You're suggesting I _spike_ him?" Dark demanded.

"Ridge of spike and transfluid are magnetic. Only difference, hands or spike," Odd reminded him.

"Help me then," Dark said roughly, and he withdrew his hand, "I can't _do_ that."

Sunstreaker cursed, wiggling his body after Dark"s hand and yanking on his own pinned hands. Dark held him in place. After a few minutes, a blunt thing took that finger's place. The spike tip pressed against the wet polymer lips of his valve and pushed inside. A flow of incoherent words tumbled out of Sunstreaker as the impossibly wide girth worked into him. The lubricant slicked copper mesh skin of Sunstreaker's slid against the mesh skin of the mech's arousal-hot spike.

The mech was too big, or he was too small, and every burning sensation was sliding down to the wicked pain splitting him open. Sunstreaker wondered, in that tiny corner of his mind, if the mech would rip through the mesh to the pressurized pockets of energon beneath. He wondered if the mech would leave him to bleed out that way.

Sunstreaker wondered if that hadn't been his real attacker's plan, to leave him bleeding and used.

A curse echoed in his audials, then the mech thrust his spike hard inside Sunstreaker's valve. The blunt head rammed the fully primed and needy sensory node at the back. The pain, shock, and pleasure of released charge surged through his fuel and power lines. Sunstreaker _screamed_.

He felt that big hand pat his hip, and soothing words spilled over him. Sunstreaker panted as his breakers reset. His processor spun with a moment of clarity he knew would not last. Odd murmured, "Mind is stronger."

"Well, if hands do not work, at least this does. It's all right, little one. Shh. I'll make sure you're safe and clean. I won't hurt you."

Sunstreaker shook his head, confused. He tugged at his trapped hands again. The mech buried in his body began to move. The slow, careful strokes didn't really ease the pressure/pain firing through his stretched valve, and each thrust fanned the desperate need growing in his circuits. When Sunstreaker tried to meet the mech's thrusts, to speed his hell along, that hand wrapped around his hip and held him in place. "No, little mech. Slowly."

Sunstreaker managed to whine. Each deliberate thrust made him writhe against Dark's hold. His vents cycled hard and fast, and he shook his head, whimpering. Anything to get the mech to move, but the mech built Sunstreaker's charge, and built it, until desperation shorted his vocalizer with a sharp squeal.

Finally, the mech slammed into him, pain and pleasure shot through needy circuitry in overload. _And the mech didn't stop._ Every hard thrust lit up every single sensor as Sunstreaker's overfilled valve tried to clench down on the spike pistoning it. Swamped over in the cascading overload the mech had given him, the last of the pain faded.

His vocalizer spat static instead of the continuous scream reaching up through his body. The sound chased the static lightning rippling across his frame and then followed his processor offline.

When he surfaced, the mech's thick spike still split him open. Sunstreaker had just enough clarity notice that the mech's whole body shook with the effort of keeping still. A word surfaced from the depths of his cortex blocked by the nanovirus.

"Kaon," Sunstreaker whispered.

Dark shuddered. The hands at hip and wrists tightened. "Yes. I know. I will give you back to yourself, and you can exact your revenge."

"Burning," Sunstreaker managed as the virus ignited fire in his sensor net all over again. The mech began that slow crawl to overload once more with shallow thrusts that left Sunstreaker moaning and shaking, but unsatisfied. Sunstreaker's own lubricant worked out around their joined bodies, helping each thrust slide more easily.

"Shh, little one. I will take care of you. My way is fastest," the mech moving inside his body growled. His pace never altered, and each slippery thrust burned across Sunstreaker's tactile sensors. Sunstreaker thought he would go mad. The mech would not let him move. The nanovirus would not let him control himself. But the burn brought a little piece back, each time.

"Please," Sunstreaker gasped. He was so close. So close. His own hands hadn't been able to trigger the overload that burned through the nanovirus. Now, Sunstreaker could still feel the mech shaking, inches from his own overload. Bracing his pedes, Sunstreaker arched his body against the mech's body, driving that spike in to the hilt again. "Please!"

Overload crashed over Sunetreaker again. Hot transfluid filled him, and the mech roared. Releasing Sunstreaker's hands, the mech's hold went to join the other at Sunstreaker's hip. With his arms freed, Sunstreaker wrapped his hands around the mech's aft, pulling him closer. Both their grips tight enough to dent, the mech drove over and over into Sunstreaker's body, deeper with leverage and angle, and the knife edge of pain slithered back in.

Another overload spun from the last. The mech's voice snarled in Sunstreaker's audial, and the mech pulled out. Spent, Sunstreaker knew, but the effects of the virus still had him twisting his body, bringing his valve, wet with their mixed fluids up along the mech's thigh again. Sunstreaker heard his own voice pleading. His fuel tank churned with seething fury that came with each incremental improvement in his processors.

The mech gasped. One large hand left Sunstreaker's hips, and three large fingers replaced the spike. He caught the last glimmer of Sunstreaker's overload, and drove the ends of his long fingers into that burning cervical node. Crying out, Sunstreaker arched into the probing touch. He grabbed the mech's hand and tried to push it in harder. Sunstreaker's body clenched with every wave of overload the mech triggered. One bled into the next until it was too much again, and Sunstreaker's processor whited out.

This time as Sunstreaker came around, he could hear the rough venting of the mech now sprawled across him. His optics wouldn't online, but he was conscious of more than lust. Sunstreaker was angry and sore.

"You were right. It's looking for a magnetic trigger," Dark's voice murmured

Odd's voice grunted. "Transfluid does not _stay_ magnetized."

"I know." Again, a broad hand patted Sunstreaker's hip. "You're doing well, little one."

"I'm not little," came out of Sunstreaker, surprising him with its lucidity. Not pleas or meaningless babble. Broken dignity tried to collect itself, even as the nanovirus began to work on him again.

"No. You are a proven warrior," Dark replied.

"Were."

"Are. You've nearly won this battle, if you can talk to me." 

"Kaon?" Sunstreaker whispered again. His body ached with need. He wiggled against the mech on top of him. "Again."

"Yes," the mech vented as Sunstreaker's hands found heated plating. The mech's own large hands fitted into the dents he had left at Sunstreaker's hips. "It will be over soon."

Sunstreaker nodded jerkily as one of the hands on his hip lifted and closed on his valve. Heat and rough metal grazed the delicate sensors. The mech sank his thumb into Sunstreaker's body, exploring the heated area inside.

Sunstreaker yelped and twisted his hips. He was sore now, but his body still tightened around the invader. "Easy," Dark whispered, "I know you're sore, little one. Slowly builds a hotter charge. The hotter the charge, the more are destroyed."

"I _know_. Want it," Sunstreaker whined.

"Shh. I know. Stay still," the mech ordered. The mech's other hand left Sunstreaker's body, and Sunstreaker whined again. Fresh lubricant coated the mesh inside him. The yellow mech tried to lift his hips to deepen the exploration of the hand still touching him.

"Don't move," the mech's cracked sharply through Sunstreaker's induced haze. Sunstreaker stilled, vents cycling high. The mech's spike nudged in alongside the thumb rubbing into the mesh of his valve.

Sunstreaker put his hands in the broad shoulders above him. The tension in the mech's frame matched his own, as Sunstreaker fought to obey the command.

The burning stretch across abused sensors finally dragged a keening cry from Sunstreaker. He dug the heels of his hands into the mech's shoulders. "Hurts. Need-- _Please_!"

A long, hard shudder passed down the mech's frame. Throwing 0caution to the wayside, Dark shoved his spike into Sunstreaker, hard. Sunstreaker shouted, and he lifted his hips to meet the mech's. The thumb still inside Sunstreaker moved around the rim of his valve. The play of sensations conflicted with the very real soreness. The growing tension between the remaining influence of the nanovirus and the angry processor pulling away from it snapped into a hate-fueled overload.

Sunstreaker knew he dented the mech's shoulders, but he didn't care. The mech ground into his body, drawing out the pain and the pleasure in a jumbled mess that kept his sensory net sizzling with released charge. Real, full clarity burned away the fog. His optics finally came online, showing him a blue sky and green leaves. And Megatron bent over Sunstreaker in his own overload.

Unicron's spike, huh? Sunstreaker thought deliriously. This is awkward.

Unmercifully, his processor began to pull itself together instead of blanking out as it had before. Megatron disengaged his body from Sunstreaker's surprisingly gently. From somwhere behind them, Soundwave called, "His mind is clear."

"How do you feel, little one? Has it stopped?"

"I told you. I'm not little."

"No," Megatron said. "You aren't little."

For a large, heavy mech, Megatron's movements to pick himself off of Sunstreaker were easy and graceful. Still kneeling between Sunstreaker's thighs, he pulled a couple of buffing cloths from his subspace. Sunstreaker scowled up at the mech, then tried to scramble back when Megatron tried to clean _him_. That thought brought a few uncomfortable realizations home.

One, _Megatron_ was kneeling between his thighs. Two, Sunstreaker's valve cover was _recessed_. Three, both of their respective parts were covered with a drying mess of lubricamt and transfluid.

If Megatron had not delivered an open-handed smack across his face, Sunstreaker's panic would have gotten the better of him.

"Stop," Megatron said. It hadn't hurt, but it did give Sunstreaker the edge he needed to wall the panic off with every other pain he had felt. Sunstreaker did wonder when the wall would collapse under the pressure. For now, he forced the necessary surface edits to hold himself together.

With a matter-of-fact manner that helped Sunstreaker calm, Megatron used one of the cloths to gently wipe the smears from Sunstreaker's body. "I will not leave you filthy. They cleaned you before, didn't they? The other slaves?"

"Yes," Sunstreaker whispered. His optics locked on the hand cleaning him. Sunstreaker closed his cover. "You-- You're from Kaon."

"Once. You were taken too often, weren't you? I saw others not...not come back from as far as you were." Megatron used the second cloth to clean himself.

"We escaped the night they said they were going to retire us. We didn't think they were going to set us free. Dead or whores. We took our chances."

"And you follow the Primes?" Megatron sneered and stood. " _That_ government led to this."

"I don't follow Prime," Sunstreaker snapped. "And he didn't cause _this_.

"You fight for him," the Decepticon leader snarled. "And I don't see your Prime here for you."

"I don't fight for him!" Sunstreaker flinched as he tried to stand, and pain shot up from his valve. Sunstreaker hissed, and, insanity piled on crazy, Megatron grabbed him under the arms and lifted him. The Decepticon leader held Sunstreaker up until he got his pedes under him. Sunstreaker stumbled to a tree, controlling his expression at a second jab of pain. Exhausted and aching, he said, "I'm going home now, if you're not going to kill me."

"See medic," Soundwave said.

"Your boss didn't frag me up that badly." Sunstreaker straightened and forced his body to walk away without limping.

A hand came down lightly on his shoulder. "They did not protect you."

"You can't promise me safety. No one can do that."

"No. But I will level the playing field."

"I have that now." Sunstreaker shrugged Megatron's hand off his shoulder. Ignoring them, Sunstreaker walked into the woods and tried to decide which direction he needed to go.


End file.
